Trapped
by Hufflepuff Ninja
Summary: Flippy wakes up to a most unpleasant surprise. First, he is a prisoner in his own home. Second, his jailer is...himself. Discontinued
1. Chapter 1

It was a typical day in Happy Tree Town, if a little chilly. The sun was still shining, though, and only a few clouds drifted across the sky. A steady clomping on the sidewalk revealed a blue-green otter with a wooden leg hobbling along. He looked like he'd been through a meat grinder a few times in the past. He was missing an eye, which was covered by an eyepatch and had a hook for a hand. He was riddled with scars and had a patch of scratchy stubble on his chin. He wore a tattered red and white striped shirt and a pirate hat. He clomped along until something stopped him. Putting a paw to his stomach, he furrowed his brow. He was hungry, no question about that, but should he go back to his ship? No, Russell decided, he'd stop by one of the restaurants. He'd been at sea for a while now, and he wanted to check in with some of his friends. He hurried along down the sidewalk until he got to the nearest restaurant, a diner decorated in a 1950's theme, vintage cola signs and all. It was crowded, and the pirate otter weaved his way through endless occupied tables, taking a seat at the only empty one. Russell had only just picked up the menu when he heard a voice calling his name. He looked up to see a pink chipmunk wearing a large red bow and holding a pen and pad of paper.

"Hey, Russell. Welcome ashore. You know what you want today?"

Russell cleared his throught, searching the menu with a look of increasing desperation.

"Er…Yar…Can' seem ter…" Giggles smiled.

"Tell you what. I'll tell Disco to whip up something special. You like surprises, I recall?" Russell nodded and sighed in relief

"Yar, that be right kind o' ye, miss." He scratched absently under the strap of his eyepatch. "That feller still followin' ye an' Petunier 'roun' like a lovesick pup?" Giggles laughed and rolled her eyes.

"Unfortunately."

"Yar, well it be nice seein' yer agin." As Giggles weaved her way in between the tables, Russell sighed, resting his elbows on the table and examining his upside-down reflection in the concave side of a slightly grimy spoon. Soon after, he heard his name called again. He looked up, seeing a light green bear of average height and a fairly muscular build, wearing a military uniform complete with green beret. Flippy. Russell had always been fond of that bear. They had both fought in the most recent war. Flippy in the infantry and Russell in the navy, they both enjoyed exchanging war stories…or, rather, Russell told his own and Flippy listened. The bear had always been rather evasive when it was his turn to tell a story, though Russell couldn't imagine why.

"Mind if I sit down? It's quite crowded here and you look like you need some company," he was saying. Russell waved vaguely toward the seat across from him and Flippy sat down, immediately scanning the menu. Russell tapped the table with his spoon idly and then set it down.

"Did I ever tell yer how I lost me eye?" Flippy nodded, face still buried in the menu. "Yar, it be a fine story in'eed. 'Twas roun'bouts five years ago, in me Seawolf days…" Russell rambled on, and Flippy pretended to listen, nodding occasionally. Russell was so fond of telling this story, Flippy had memorized it. He could recite it in his sleep, if so compelled. Instead, the bear got lost in his own thoughts. That is, until he heard his name being called.

"Flippy. Yar, Flippy. Flippy, me boy."

He tried to pretend he had heard him the first time, smiling.

"That's my name, don't wear it out. I use enough cliches as it is." Russell laughed heartily

"Yar, that's me lovesick pup. In a daze over yon Flaky."

"Huh?"

"The young red lass that just be walkin' in. Ye know."

Flippy blinked. He hadn't even noticed the timid red porcupine walking in for her waitressing shift, though now that he saw her, he couldn't help but notice the little backflips his stomach was doing.

"Um, sure, let's go with that." Flippy said, blushing.

"Yar, I envy yer, ye know that?"

"Um…really?"

"Sure," Russell said with a dramatic sweep of his fork. Flippy had to scoot back to keep from joining the one-eye club. "Ye got all them broads fallin' over themsel'es fer a date with ye, just des'rate, an' a scurvy dog like meself don' get a second look from pretty girls like that Petunier," he said, sighing. Flippy took a moment to decipher Russell's pirate-speak, then smiled.

"Petunia? She's not with anyone, I don't think. Why don't you go talk to her. She's right there," he said, indicating a spot a few tables away where a blue skunk sat, chatting on her cell phone.

"But-"

"Go talk to her, man."

"But me leg…"

"C'mon, Russell, you scared or something? She's not gonna bite."

Russell sighed.

"Ye be right, matey. She be a right kindly-"

"Shut your yap and go get a date, you scurvy dog." Flippy said, pulling the otter out of his seat and slapping him playfully on the back. Russell staggered forward a few steps, then slipped on a patch of waxed floor. He slid forward several feet and collided with a waiter carrying several used plates. The waiter flailed his arms as he fell, sending the plates flying inches from where Flippy sat. As they shattered into tiny porcelain pieces, the crashing sound resonated through the now silent diner. Flippy jumped about ten feet into the air and began twitching, trembling, holding his head as if he had a terrible headache. That crashing sound echoed in his head, slowly escalating into rumbling booms, loud machine gun fire…a desolate battlefield scorched by flamethrowers…the stench of blood…invisible enemies. He ground his teeth, trying to shove down the all too familiar feeling of panic and rage rising inside him.

His efforts were futile, as he stopped trembling and his face broke into a sadistic, twisted grin full of knife-sharp teeth. His eyes slowly opened, and they were a sickly yellow-green and not his usual black. He grabbed the knife from the rolled up napkin at his place and breifly studied his reflection in it. It was a simple butter knife, with almost no edge at all, but Evil had killed with stranger things. Whirling, he shoved the knife into the soft spot at the base of the skull of the person nearest to him. He paused momentarily, enjoying his victim's scream of shock and agony before he picked up a shard of broken plate off the floor and proceeded to slaughter the restaurant guests, spilling as much blood as he could in increasingly innovative and disturbing ways. One of which included strangling someone with the live wires he ripped from the light fixtures above.

One saw this, Flaky the porcupine. Terrified, she dived under one of the tables, silent tears running down her face as she trembled in horror, not daring to breathe loud enough that even she could hear it. Evil saw this out of the corner of his eye and smirked. Foolish girl. He'd kill her last. And he'd make sure to enjoy it the most. He plunged a pilfered steak knife into the throught of the last victim and tossed its body to the floor.

He walked around the restaurant, pretending to count bodies (eighty-eight), making a great show of walking past the table under which Flaky hid. Finally, he leaned down and grabbed the porcupine's wrist, dragging her out from under the table with surprising strength, almost dislocating her arm. He let Flaky run to the door before he tossed a few knives almost casually at her, pinning her front paws to the door and her hind paws to the floor. He strolled over to the bleeding , screaming porcupine, picking up a glass bottle of hot sauce on the way, pretending to inspect it. He stopped a few inches in front of her and glanced up, studying her. "You're attractive enough, I'll give you that…but you're much too timid. I like a little spice on my girl," He said in a deep, rasping snakelike voice, much different from his usual high-pitched and friendly tone. He turned the bottle in his paws. "If you know what I mean. Let's see if I can't fix that." Almost casually, he uncorked the bottle of hot sauce and poured it over her shoulder. Without warning, his knifelike teeth were buried deep into her flesh, almost to the bone. Bracing himself by grabbing her forearms, he jerked back and ripped the huge chunk of flesh from her. He snapped it up like a crocodile, letting the blood run down his chin. "Mmmm," he said, smacking and licking his lips, "Not bad, but I'm looking for something with a little more…" he narrowed his eyes into a truly terrifying expression, "with a little more _kick, _you know?" Within a split second, her jugular was in Evil's jaws. He tossed her to the ground, slurped up the rest of the vein like spaghetti, then gave the control to his dominant half. The dark color of his pupils spread out to cover the green and his teeth blunted into a normal shape. Flippy groaned and held his head, trying to contain the splitting headache that accompanied changing personalities. He looked around with increasing horror at what he…at what Evil had done. And then he saw Flaky's corpse. He grew pale and he placed a paw over his mouth to hold down the nausea creeping up from his stomach. Then he tasted the blood and bile in his throught, felt the blood already drying on his chin and chest. That time, he did vomit. He kept reminding himself not to look down, but he did, and saw his latest-raw-meal. Flippy broke out in a cold sweat and burst out of the door, running all the five miles to his house. He collapsed just inside the door onto his elbows and knees, sobbing and dripping blood.

_Aww, poor little angst muffin, _a voice in his head sneered. Flippy snarled

"You!" he bellowed, fully aware that he was talking to himself. At this point, he didn't care, though

_Me, _it cooed, _everyone's favorite dormant personality._

"YOU SICK TWISTED SADISTIC SOCIOPATHIC-," He screamed, and the voice cut him off

_Shouldn't you be going to bed? We've had a long day and you haven't been getting enough sleep lately_. Flippy gaped, astounded at the comment. "Since when do you _care_?"

_I don't like using you when you're weak. You were hazy. That made it less fun. It's a lose-lose situation._ Flippy stood and stamped his foot defiantly.

"Well, maybe I _want _to make myself weak! If it means getting rid of you, I'd never sleep, yeah, never even eat again!"

The voice scoffed. _We'll just see about that._ And then it faded away. Flippy snorted with rage once more and stomped upstairs to the shower. He took a long, hot shower, then sat in front of the television for a romance movie marathon. He was a sucker for some good romance movies. After a moment, he noticed the lack of Evil's constant jabbering in his head. Evil had been silent for several hours.

"_What are you planning, Evil?"_ Flippy thought to himself. There was no response. He shrugged, figuring he should take advantage of this Evil-nag-free period. He finally shut off the TV, climbed into bed, and drifted off to sleep. He wandered aimlessly in the beautiful field he so ofted frequented in his dreams…

…

…

And was ripped harshly from unreality by a sharp kick in his side. He was shoved off the bed. Flippy looked up. And stared into the face of Evil himself

Author's note: Hey guise! I'm back! So, this was based off a roleplay me and my friend did, and it was honestly one of the best roleplays I've ever done. It's gonna be rated M, because it gets better. Way better. You ain't seen nothing yet. I must warn you, it contains rather intense EvilXFlippy in the later chapters. Don't like the pairing, don't read. Or Evil will find you and do terrible things to you with your own flames. So ha.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: HAY GUISE! I know its been a long time, but I've been swamped with school. Senior year and all that. I get out week after next, but this next chapter's been kicking me around all day since I decided to read you people's reviews in Art class. So here it is, and don't kill me because its been so long. Please. That's what Evil Flippy is for. XD

Flippy scooted backwards in surprise, staring up at his counterpart's face.

"How did you- I mean I- you-WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE!" He screeched, as it dawned on him who he was staring at. Evil smirked.

"Good morning to you too, sunshine. Happy to see me as usual." Evil stepped forward, and Flippy scrambled up, taking a step back. His eyes darted around, taking stock of his surroundings, slowly realizing he wasn't in the room he fell asleep in.

"Er…Evil? Um, how…why am I in my basement?"

"OUR Basement," Evil corrected him, "Magic."

"Um…okay," Flippy said, backing away slowly, "But WHY am I in MY basement"

"Oh, that," Evil said, shrugging his shoulders, "It's the best place for what I have in mind."

"And…that would be?" Evil chuckled.

"Check the door, princess, you'll soon see what I mean." Evil stepped aside and motioned to the door with one paw. Tentatively, and checking over his shoulder several times, Flippy climbed the three small steps to the basement door, took the doorknob and pulled. It didn't budge. Pulled harder. Still nothing. Delivered a hefty kick to the door. It didn't even splinter.

"You're trapped, sweetheart, and I plan to keep it that way for a long, long time," Evil sneered from behind Flippy. He grabbed the back of his good half's jacket and swung him around, bashing Flippy's head on the handrail with a sickening crack, and tossed him down the stairs onto the concrete floor. Flippy groaned and slumped to the floor, unconcious.

The next thing Flippy knew, he was chained to the wall, bound by manacles on each of his paws. A foot long length of chain connected the cuffs to rings on the wall. His head was pounding with pain, and he couldn't suppress a groan.

"What's wrong? Your leg bothering you?" Evil purred from somewhere beside Flippy.

"I don't…have a…bad…leg," Flippy said in between gritting his teeth and spitting out blood from his head wound that had oozed into his mouth. Evil let out an insane cackle and said, "You do now!" As he plunged his knife, a much longer one than usual, between a dagger and a sword, into Flippy's left leg, up to the handle, a tiny, glittering point, dripping with red, protruded from the other side. Flippy let out an earsplitting screech, breaking out in an intense sweat. Evil reached down and took hold of the knife, pulling it out with agonising slowness, the serrated edges making it even worse. Flippy ground his teeth together to keep from screaming again, clenching his fists so tight his claws drew tiny trickles of blood from his palms, panting heavily through his nose.

"What. Do. You. WAAANT?" Flippy ground out, the last word ending as a scream, unable to contain it any longer. Evil finally pried the knife loose a second after the screech. He licked the blood off with obvious pleasure, as if it were the most delicious food in the world. "Well, what _was _it that I wanted," he said with mock silence, balancing the knife on one claw. "Oh yes, I remember now. You said last night that if it meant getting rid of me, you'd never eat or sleep again. That got me thinking. What _are _your limits? What does it take to break you?" Evil shrugged, yellow-green eyes glinting sadistically by the dim light provided by the single bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. "Or, it could just be my way, as your dormant personality slash manifestation of primitive bloodlust, of… Ugh. That psycho-drivel. Let's just go with 'I like to see you squirm,' okay, sweetheart?" He grabbed Flippy's chin and turned Flippy's head so he could stare directly into Evil's bloodshot eyes. "War is hell," he snarled, "I'm worse."


End file.
